


Riddles on the Wall

by madlysanecatlady



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Nygmobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlysanecatlady/pseuds/madlysanecatlady
Summary: The line is blurred between revenge attempts and flirtation for Ed and Oswald.





	Riddles on the Wall

Oswald wasn’t sure at which point the attempts at murder had turned into flirtation. It wasn’t his intention to get sucked back in by the magnetic pull of Edward Nygma. But yet, here he stood with another half-hearted attempt at a clever revenge scheme.

Of course, it didn’t seem to him that the flirtation was one-sided. The infernal riddles hinting at his eventual demise had begun to become laughably easy to solve, and Oswald knew it wasn’t just him getting smarter. 

A clatter at the window in the next room alerted him to an intruder. Eager to keep up with Ed, he raced to what had once been Ed’s room as fast as his bad leg could carry him.

There he found a message sprayed onto the wall in glittering green.

It dances and skips,   
  
it’s read in the eyes but it cheats with the hips,   
  
If it meets its match it’s easily caught,   
  
but it’s worth nothing if it is bought. 

‘A heart,’ Oswald whispered to himself, clutching instinctively at his chest, as though fearing something would shoot into it. He moved on to the next riddle underneath it.

Mend me, it is spoken.  
  
I need it, for I am…

‘Broken?’ Oswald was beginning to get confused. Usually the riddles at least alluded some sort of violence. This was… well. This was unexpected. He looked to the final message, wondering of that would answer all his questions.

I end all wars,  
  
I begin to mend.  
  
When I appear, all fighting ends.

'Truce?’ Oswald took a moment to reflect, startling when a shadow moved in the corner of the room, revealing Ed in resplendent green, walking towards him and into the light.

'Purple really is your colour,’ Ed noted quietly, eyeing Oswald’s plum shirt.

'Yes, well, for all your faults, you do have splendid taste,’ Oswald said stiffly, not wanting to let his guard down. This could well be a trap. He wasn’t about to let his heart get him killed twice.

Ed took a step forward and Oswald tensed. 'I’m growing tired of playing games when they bring no satisfaction.’

'So just stop,’ Oswald sniped saucily. 'No one’s forcing you to send me stupid riddles.’

'And yet,’ two steps forward this time. Oswald was beginning to plan an escape. 'You’ve got quite the talent for solving them, haven’t you?’

Oswald said nothing. He wasn’t ready to admit, not even to himself, that he enjoyed working through the riddles because they made him feel connected to Ed again. That would be starting back down another dangerous path for his poor mangled heart.

Ed took one large step sideways and several more forward, effectively cornering Oswald between the wall and the bedpost. 'Did you miss me?’

'Why the hell would I miss you? You tried to kill me!’ Oswald’s eyes darted about, trying to find a way out.

'That’s not an answer,’ Ed was almost unbearably close now. Oswald could hear both their heartbeats hammering away. 'All these half-hearted threats and schemes. You’d almost think you wanted me to get bored of the flirtation and just come in for the kill.’

Oswald stopped breathing, waiting to catch a glimpse of how Ed planned to make his move.

Ed lunged suddenly, and Oswald braced for an impact, fighting to remember how to defend himself. But instead of on the ground bleeding, Oswald found himself being pressed into the wall, Ed’s lips moving urgently against his own.

He felt all the emotions swirling inside him, inside them both. Hate, lust, anger, love - all mixing confusingly together as Ed’s tongue violently explored his mouth.

Angry that Ed could so easily disarm him and make him feel all these things, Oswald bit down hard on Ed’s bottom lip, tasting the blood that smeared between their mouths.

This only seemed to spur Ed on. He drove a knee between Oswald’s legs, pressing cruelly upward, making Oswald gasp for air in the few moments Ed himself needed to breathe. This was it, he thought. Ed was going to kill him like this, suffocating him by giving him what Oswald had wanted so badly mere months before. 

His thoughts strayed back to the riddles on the wall. Broken heart. Oswald wondered if perhaps Ed weren’t only talking about Oswald’s pain. He felt a wetness pressing into his cheek that wasn’t Ed’s blood and found that Ed was crying. Or was it both of them?

Something remained between them. Something dark and dangerous and too heavy to carry alone. It wasn’t what Oswald had wanted, but he wasn’t ready to send it away either. He simply pulled Ed closer, fingernails scraping whatever flesh he could find. Whatever was between them wasn’t gentle. But it was fine - neither were they. And as they began to embrace that thought, some violence giving away to submission to the power they each had over the other, the darkness blossomed into something brighter, not better, but garish yet welcome, like the green of the riddles dripping down the wall.


End file.
